Perfect Set Ups
by maureenbrown
Summary: The redhead watches in defeat as she scrambles to clutch the curtain before her legs give way, the liquid spilling all over Isabelle's dress, dripping down to her silver heels. "You don't have to pay for that." "I wasn't planning on it." Coffee Shop AU/Enemies to Lovers AU, one-shot, Clizzy with past Clace.
Clary is plain tired. She's been working her shift as a Java barista for two hours and eighteen minutes, and it's only seven in the morning.

The dull, soft chatter of customers mixed with the unmistakable aroma of ground coffee beams lulls her senses into a relaxed state.

She leans against the counter, her red hair spilling over her hand as she rests her chin on her hand, allowing her eyes to slip closed for just a second.

The tapping of high heels across the tiles of the floor jolt Clary awake.

The sun has risen slightly, a tall, curved figure slinking over to her at the counter, the rest of the coffee shop having gone silent, all watching the sashay of the goddess in front of them.

The girl standing in front of her is gorgeous to say the very least: black hair coming in waves down her shoulders, tan, flawless skin, and red lipstick the color of a particularly nice sunset completing her perfectly done makeup. A tight black dress clings to her hips, dazzling jewels adorn her eyes, as well as a snake bracelet coiling up her arm.

Several rays of light obscures some of her features, though that may just be Clary's exhaustion. No matter what, the woman still looks like an angel.

She forces herself to close her agape mouth, hoping her hair isn't messed up completely as she pushes herself up from her position.

"What can I get you?" Clary hears herself saying, though her voice sounds far away as she continues to drink in the woman's features.

"Tall, black coffee, hold the cream and sugar." She replies, her voice slightly accented, and Clary can't help but watch her lips as she speaks.

"Got it." Clary shoots back, teetering off her stool to rush to snag a cup, pulling out the Sharpie from behind her ear.

"What's your name?" She asks, maybe a bit too eagerly, but the small smile that graces the girls lips is more than fine with Clary.

"Isabelle." She purrs back, and Clary's handwriting is a bit more scrawled than usual as she all but leaps to complete her order.

Thankfully, Clary's body works without her having to think, quickly and successfully whipping up a steaming hot cup of coffee while she allows her thoughts to wonder from _her name is Isabelle_ to _I hope she comes back_.

When she pops back to the counter, the Latina woman already has her card out, ready to pay.

Clary holds her hand out for an attempted exchange, instead slipping spectacularly on some spilled milk, the full coffee cup bursting as soon as it makes contact with the surface of the stand.

The redhead watches in defeat as she scrambles to clutch the curtain before her legs give way, the liquid spilling all over Isabelle's dress, dripping down to her silver heels.

Once again, time ceases to continue, all coffee enthusiasts turning their heads to witness the catastrophe in front of them.

Finding her words, Clary managers to stammer out "you don't have to pay for that."

"I wasn't planning on it." Isabelle mutters, looking down at the ground, and all glamor to her tone is gone, replaced by steel.

Blood rushes to Clary's face and she opens her mouth to apologize, instead being splattered with coffee as Isabelle pulls on her dress to expel the stickiness, and she's pretty sure she deserves that.

Isabelle looks back up, her lips are curled into a sneer, shoving her card back in her wallet. She strides away from the abandoned barista and puddles of caffeine, wearing coffee stains like a new gown.

Clary really shouldn't be this caught up on a girl, even if they are the goddess that is Isabelle. She's alert and careful now, making sure to place the coffee cup on the counter and deliberately making sure there's no messes around her workplace.

Currently, Clary sits glumly on her stool, prodding the counter with her foot to push her side to side, sulking as she relaxes, waiting for the tinkling sound of a bell clanging against a door.

Eventually, a tall, uncomfortable looking man stumbles in the café, pushing up his long sleeves to reveal tattoos swirling up his arm, approaching the counter with caution.

Clary opens her mouth to greet him, immediately getting cut off with his order.

"I'll get a grande cappuccino, a grande peppermint tea, and a tall black coffee." He mumbles, his voice gruff, his startling blue eyes glued to the menu as if he would rather be anywhere but here, black hair hanging in his face.

Her heart twinges a little once she hears the last order, and as common as it is, she can only affiliate it with Isabelle's.

Instead, she forces herself to focus on the customer at hand.

"What's your name?" She asks dully, her pen ready.

"Alec," The boy utters back. "With a 'c,' not an 'x.'"

Clary nods, shifting to concoct the drinks quickly and precisely, before sliding them into a holder and pushing it towards the boy.

He holds his credit card in one hand, staring in fascination at her name tag, and Clary resists the urge to turn away. She clears her throat, holding her hand out expectantly and placing her other hand self-consciously over her chest, causing Alec's eyes to drift up, his cheeks a dusty pink color.

He doesn't apologize, but he does shove the card into her fingers, bolting out the door as soon as she's returned it, balancing the Java merchandise on one arm, frantically dialing a number into his phone.

Clary's almost positive she hears Isabelle's name from Alec's lips, but she dismisses it, knowing that it's only what she wants to hear.

"What the hell are you doing here?" A familiar voice asks, and Clary can practically hear the snarl in her crystalline, scathing voice before she turns around.

"I could ask you the same thing." She spits back, miraculously managing not to stammer over her words as she faces the tall beauty that is Isabelle, her red hair whipping around the breeze as she crosses her arms defiantly.

"My brother told me to meet him here." Isabelle says matter-of-factly, looking down at Clary, her chin jutted in the air.

"As did my friend." Clary says just as stubbornly.

In hindsight, bantering with the girl that's occupied her thoughts for roughly a month isn't the smartest idea, but she can't think of a better option at the moment. Plus, it at least gives her an excuse to see Isabelle for even a moment longer, already preventing herself from longingly drinking in her features, re-etching them into her memory.

"Can't you meet them somewhere else?" She asks, sounding impatient, though she doesn't let a whine interlace with her words.

"Why can't you?" Clary shoots back childishly, setting her jaw as the breeze picks up outside of Java, still glaring up at her.

Isabelle opens her mouth to retort, but she turns her head to the side after a moment, dropping down gracefully to the bench.

Clary pauses before sitting a respectable amount of space between her, crossing her legs and staring ahead, side-eyeing Isabelle when she can.

She looks regal as always, wearing a long coat the color of coffee, and Clary has to bite down on her lip to keep from smirking at the irony of it all. Her black hair is straightened again, her lipstick a darker autumn shade, laced-up, skin-tight boots stopping just below her kneecaps.

Neither of them move or make a sound, the crisp air of fall biting at Clary's nose and tempting her to at least bundle up underneath her sweater more, but she stays resolute and stationary.

Finally, Isabelle's posture relaxes and she lounges against the park bench, her expression still sour. "We were set up." She says, turning to see Clary, her gaze electrifying.

"What?" Clary asks intelligently, not used to being addressed by her still.

"My brother would've been here by now. He's never late." Isabelle purses her perfect lips, and the redhead has to resist licking her own.

"Well, at least I didn't get stood up by my sibling. Jace will come eventually." Clary retaliates, though she's not quite convinced.

Isabelle's eyes widen slightly, her eyebrows furrowing with concentration. "Did you say Jace? As in, Jace Wayland?" She asks slowly, and now Clary is thoroughly puzzled.

"Yeah, he's my friend." She says, playing with the tips of her curls as she stares questioningly at Isabelle, expecting an explanation.

"He's Alec's best friend. My brother." Isabelle adds as if it should've been obvious, and the puzzle pieces start clicking.

"Alec with a 'c'?" She inquires, and Isabelle nods.

"He came into Java the other day. Did you tell him about…" The other woman's expression makes it clear she'd discussed the incident before, if not many times.

"No wonder he was looking at my name tag." Clary mutters exasperatedly, dropping her head back as she closes her eyes.

"Oh, _you're_ Clary then." Isabelle clarifies with a hint of disdain, and she manages a nod. "I've heard your name before. You dated Jace."

"And Jace's mentioned you and Alec, too." Clary sighs, turning to face Isabelle, who looks a bit perplexed.

"They thought it would be funny if met again, didn't we?" She asks the Latina, scrunching her nose up and wishing for it not to be true.

"Yeah, they did." Isabelle rolls her eyes, continuing to frown.

There's a long silence, both the girls processing the information, and Clary thinks their timelines are almost too connected for this to be true. Their tale sounds like something perfectly plucked from a storybook packed with clichés.

"You know, we could make this backfire on them." She suggests, turning her head to the side to see Isabelle.

"And how would we do that?"

"I could take you out. We could start all over."

Isabelle stares at her, weighing her chances evidently, before giving a curt nod. "We should stay away from Java, though. I'm giving you a second chance, I don't need coffee spilled on me all over again."

Despite herself, Clary smirks. "You got it."

Isabelle even offers her a tiny smile in return.


End file.
